Page 156 of Toxic Revenge: Part Two
He thrust deep one last time, filling my ass as he came.
As the orgasm high dropped us, we all slumped down into the pillows of the nest. I regulated my breathing as their softening cocks slipped out of me, leaving me empty.
I was definitely going to feel that tomorrow.
Dear god.
Conrad lifted me off West’s chest and laid me on the bed, wiping down my messy inner thighs and ass. Every touch was gentle and infused with affection; same as every other time he’d cleaned me up after we’d had our pleasure.
When he was done, I pulled him down to me, snuggling against his side and kissing the mark on his neck. Mercer and West hauled themselves up the bed too, creating a cuddle pile around me.
I purred contentedly, and three purrs rumbled in response.
“I love you,” I whispered, already drifting off to sleep.
They all whispered that they loved me right back, but even if they hadn’t, I already knew.
We’d always been meant for each other, after all.
Epilogue
TALIA
One month later
Wind buffeted us from behind, pushing us forward down the busy city street. Mercer’s arm wrapped around my shoulders as he made sure I stayed close to his side.
We were finally getting our date.
And I was finally getting off the estate.
My dads had been hesitant about this at first, trying to insist I needed more time to recover. I’d talked them out of that mindset.
My pain was almost nonexistent, now. Benjamin was a bad memory, but our fractured bond was no longer an open wound. It was a scar, mostly healed.
I had my three mates; the ones I’d chosen for myself. The ones my body had chosen too. My scent matched pack; my bondmates.
The rest of my recovery was going to be slow, working through the trauma, but I was past the worst of it. I could start living a normal life again, one step at a time.
“Where are we going?” I asked for the fifteenth time.
Mercer chuckled. “Fine, I’ll ruin the surprise. We’re almost there anyway. I’m taking you to dinner theatre. Good food and a great show. That’s what the reviews say.”
We stopped at a red light, people milling around us. There were other couples holding hands, families with kids, and singles looking like they just got off shift. The atmosphere was electric, infusing me with excitement.
“What kind of show is it?” I asked.
“Cabaret.”
The light changed, white walk symbol glowing on the opposite side of the street. We were swept up in the flow.
“I bet they’re going to have amazing outfits. I’ve seen a lot of ballet and some musical theatre, but never cabaret.”
Mira performed ballet on a regular basis, so I’d seen enough of that to last a lifetime. The art of it was beautiful, but the crowds tended to be stuffy—I was glad Mercer hadn’t opted for that type of show.
Cabaret would be more our vibe. A little chaotic, a lot of fun, and not at all stuffy or elitist.
“I’ve never been to a show like this either,” he admitted. “Concerts at bars, yeah. The occasional comedy show if it was combined with cheap drinks. Never a show where I was expected to dress up from my typical leather and ratty jeans.”
